Bestow to the Victor
by The Fuhrerling
Summary: Sarah is granted rule in a neighboring province of the Labyrinth. A life like one she could have never imagined awaits her, if she would only agree. If she accepts this offer, what more will she accept? J/S
1. Home

**Bestow to the Victor**

**Author's note:** _I originally began writing this story about five years ago, posting only the first two chapters. I got deterred with some other junk, so I thought I'd retry it after an absence from ffn. So here it is again, and, if I do say so, much improved. _

**Disclaimer**: The motion picture, "Labyrinth" is an original idea created by Jim Henson. It does not belong to me, nor will it ever. So there.

**Chapter 1--****Home**

Home. How oddly comforting that simple, enigmatic word seemed to her as she walked among the autumn-strewn leaves that lined the streets of her New England hometown. Home is where she would be greeted by an intuitive familiarity; it is where she could once again fall right into step, regardless of how long she was away. Home is where she would be greeted by the sights and sounds that evoke a euphoric rush in one's mind, like a mind-bending drug, stimulating a moment of pure ecstasy in recollection, and then curbing the appetite for anything else in the world.

"Only minutes away from home," she thought, grabbing her valise more securely as she prodded away from the tiny train station that housed a set of trains that ran daily to the airport. And in all her weariness, Sarah smiled for the remaining draining miles.

***** With the last of her bags finally unpacked, Sarah gave a sigh of relief and standing, hands upon hips, looked around her bedroom in satisfaction. She was exhausted from traveling, but she would not let that be her barrier. "For once, I'm glad to be back home," she whispered almost inaudibly to herself before collapsing on the bed in front of her to catch her second wind.

She stared up at the ceiling above her and reminisced for a few moments over the past few days. Real life proved to be a hard-hitting obstacle to conquer, nothing like Sarah had expected. Finding a grown-up job, as her father so aptly called it in numerous emails over the past few months, seemed to her such a petty chore, disgusting and below her.

"Nursing?" she read aloud from her laptop just last week at a tiny al fresco cafe in Rome. Really, dad? Snorting quite unladylike at the thought, she mumbled a quick obscenity just as a tall and rather tan Roman waiter with a chiseled face and aquiline nose put down Sarah's cup of espresso. His locks of dark hair curled just below his ears and his eyes held something of a raw salacious look that Sarah could only picture mingled between sweaty bed sheets.

"Scusa?" He interrupted, cocking up one dark eyebrow and letting the tiniest smirk play on one corner of his mouth as if he had understood Sarah's appalling use of English perfectly well.

She laughed a little then, turning her prettiest smile upon him. "Sorry," she said, wondering if this perfect Roman specimen spoke enough broken English to escort her back to her rented flat with a bit of friendly conversation. "Thanks for this--_grazie_."

Yes, the real world was arduous, but traveling around the world? _A piece of cake._

Sarah smiled at the memory of the Roman cafe, reminiscing about all of her travels over the past two years. She felt exhilarated, free, edified, mature...and safe. Almost as if nothing could chase her to Europe, although she could never figure out why this feeling might exist.

Her days were filled with mesmerizing self-propelled excursions where she'd lose herself among the ancient cobblestone paths of whatever city she was in....Rome, Vienna, Loches. Climbing over statues that beheld the steely scowl of some Ottoman emperor. Laughing and running to peer behind moss-covered stone doors held up by a perfect keystone, gazing wide-eyed and curious, like a little lost child in a supermarket, into the dark areas where no person has ventured for centuries. Always searching, always searching. But never_ finding._

But searching for what? She didn't want to think.

And it wasn't as if she wasn't making a living, like her parents accused. She paid her way doing the only thing she knew best--telling stories. Travel writing was something Sarah briefly explored during college, but now, her talent was put to such good use. Her words scrawled onto almost every English publication on the main continent, bespeaking her tales of good food, fine wine, and luxurious company. Yes, her days could be quite wonderful.

But at night, night was the time when all memories of the day had vanished and she was left alone with her thoughts.

Sometimes, when her head was dizzy from too much champagne and the vibrant glow of the moon crept in her veranda window, clothing her bed with its soft blush, she lay awake thinking about them..about _him_. And so she tossed and turned on her pillow, as if trying to rub the memory from her brain, disturbing (on occasion) her bedmate for the evening, who would groggily try to pacify her tumultuous flails by smoothing her wild mass of silky black tresses with his lips. She relented, for a moment, listening until her foreign companions breathing slowed into muted snores, before she turned towards the moon and crying the silent breathy tears of a little girl just awake from an awful nightmare of goblins and ghouls, let sleep take over her.

But it wasn't until her stay in Rome when she finally gave in and decided to return home. It was another tearful night of tossing and turning and trying to forget. Fabrizio, her chiseled Roman waiter, awoke and turned soft brown eyes upon her.

"Sarah, bella," he whispered in a raspy voice that Sarah could tell was reserved only for pillow talk. He raised a gentle, tanned finger to her cheek stained pink with wetness. He drew back his finger, looking at it with tender sorrow and kissed away the tear there. "Che l'e? Why are you not asleep?" She looked beautiful in the moonlight--even in her tears--star-kissed and flushed, her shiny black hair hanging in a mess of wavy tendrils that wrapped around her shoulders and fell below her white eyelet-clad breasts. Her eyes shone a brilliant emerald, welling up with water, and she turned them on Fabrizio, who was suddenly just a friendly foreign stranger, with the aching emptiness of a lost little girl.

"Please leave me....leave me alone," she murmured in a tiny voice, turning her head into her pillow with a muffled sob.

She couldn't run away anymore.

And so she was home. Starting a job as a freelancer for a local magazine. Coming back to reality at the age of twenty-five. Her lips twitched at the thought of herself in such a domestic role after years of running free. Maybe she needed this, a tiny dose of real life. "And this really is real life," she thought as she closed her eyes and took in an exuberant inhalation of the sweet smell of her old Tinkerbelle perfume, _the smell of her dreams._ Sarah smiled at the familiar scent, softly humming a tune that had carved out a little niche in the back of her mind, although she could not quite place its melody.

The sound of someone shouting followed by short bouts of laughter brought her out of her reverie. Toby and her father must be helping Karen make dinner tonight. Sarah offered the world a small grin of contentment and snuggled her head deeper into the pillow. Maybe it would be best to catch a little shuteye before joining her family for a most welcome meal.


	2. To the Victor Go the Spoils

**** She had no idea how much time had passed in her respite, but Sarah awoke with a start. It took her a moment to adjust her eyes to the dim lighting of the room and she cautiously took in her surroundings.

What had woken her? "Hunger," Sarah thought indisputably. But her silent stomach seemed to disagree with her assessment. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes once more.

It was....something. Something had been the culprit in the disturbance of her grateful slumber. It was something, and it was this something that made the back of her neck grow cold and her stomach flip over. But what was it?

A soft scuffle on the carpet resonating with the facsimile of someone's footsteps across the floor caused Sarah's ears to perk up and she squeezed her eyes shut tight.

Toby? her voice cracked in a strange sound that divulged her weariness and her fear at the same time. _Please be Toby, please be Toby, please be Toby_, her heart seemed to beat in perfect meter.

_What are you so afraid of, stupid? _

Another scuffle. It sounded like someone was wrenching their hand across a glass window. This time, Sarah did open her eyes, glancing from corner to corner, finally allowing her eyes to settle on the window. She stuck the tip of her thumbnail in her mouth, chewing absent-mindedly in a nervous tic, and narrowed her eyes until they shone like two glowing emeralds in the darkness. She squinted, peering at the window, hesitating to get up.

"There's nothing there," she aloud to no one, as if the words would convince herself otherwise. "I have jet lag and I'm dreaming."

But her nerves didn't seem to believe what her voice was telling her. There was a tiny bit of buried knowledge coming from somewhere deep inside her, rising up like a bubble before bursting right in her throat.

_Pop_!

"The mirror," she murmured. The words came out in a ghost of whisper, barely passing over dry, cracked lips and settling on her own ears in a girlish whimper that surprised Sarah.

Sarah slammed her eyelids shut again, squeezing so tightly that little white stars appeared in the darkness of her mind. She had made it a point not to look into her vanity mirror when arriving back home. She hadn't looked into it any time she returned home...not since, well, Sarah didn't like to think back that far.

After two years of visiting with her friends from the Labyrinth, chatting with them into late hours of the night, laughing with them as Hoggle entertained her with stories of late-night goblin tipping, and clapping at Didymus and Ludo's tall tales of chivalry, Sarah was leaving for college.

Ill come home all the time, she tried to explain excitedly, stuffing clothes into her bags. Weekends, holidays, and dont forget summer vacation. But something in Didymus's eyes and the way Hoggle cast his head down gave her the lie, for she didn't call on them again, spending her summer breaks traveling and then leaving for good after graduation.

_Is this what you've been running from?_

_Maybe its time to face the music. _

Sarah sighed and slowly opened one eye, letting it peer rapidly around the room, but the mirror seemed to call to her. Both eyes opened beneath veiled eyelids, two narrow green slits that settled on her own reflection in the foggy haze of her vanity mirror. For a moment, she locked eyes with herself, taking in the all of the fear, all of the sorrow, all of the loneliness that looked back at her. Sarah laughed a little at her reflection, but it was not a pretty laugh.

"What has happened to me?" she thought, running her hands through her mass of thick hair and flipping it back over her shoulders in an exaggerated fashion. Her hair still had the length it had when she was 15; although, it grew darker and she wore it in lovely loose curls that seemed to complement the exquisite creaminess of her face and bring out the shining emerald of her eyes.

Her eyes were instantly drawn to shadowy figure moving clumsily in the far corner of her mirror, fumbling through the haze, dispersing it into liquid smoke that seemed to rise out of the glass and disappear into the twilight of her bedroom. Sarah sank back a little into her cozy fortress, gathering her knees to her chest in almost a defensive movement, never letting her eyes leave the mirror. But before she could murmur a word, the figure emerged, stepping into the muted glow of the moonlit window, and spoke in a hushed voice.

"Are you Sarah Williams?" the voice asked, a slight accent lilting his cadence.

Opening her mouth in utter disorientation, Sarah looked the man over in slight peculiarity. He was an elderly man, with a small stature and a plump belly. He had short gray hair with a small cowlick sticking up near the back of his head, and she could see the ends of his hair matted with beads of perspiration forming at his hairline. Sarah could tell he was uncomfortable, for he wrung his hands together in a hurried method, and shuffled from foot to foot nervously while awaiting her reply.

There was something in this man that brought to mind an unnerving memory that she was sure had never existed. It was something in his appearance and enunciation.

The man stood, somewhat slumped, in dark trousers tucked gawkily into his boots. A short black jacket with wide sleeves hung open, revealing a plate of silver armor clinging to his upper chest, yet scarcely concealing his obtruding belly. A crimson cape made of what seemed to be the finest velvet hung crookedly over his hunched shoulders. This man's clothing fit limply and most awkwardly over his body, and Sarah almost laughed at the ungallant picture he made, but sensibility got the best of her, and she thought better of the initiative.

Yet something about the oafishness of this man did nothing to ease that unpleasant recollection she felt in his presence.

She suddenly remembered he had spoken to her. _What was it that he had asked?_

_Oh yes, her name._

"Umm," Sarah started, but couldn't finish for fear her voice would come out in shrill, panicky bursts.

The man leaned forward and squinted his eyes, searching her face.

"Hmmm. Yes, I can see that you are indeed her," he said. "Sarah Williams. Conqueror of the labyrinth?"

Sarah could feel the blood drain from her cheeks and she let out a soft gasp of surprise. There was that memory again, and this time she was left to deal with it as truth and fact. It was a fictional feat brought out from the dark recesses of her mind into the cruel prying hands of the existent world. It was an open sore licked by the salty tongues of reality.

"Oh. Um. I'm Sarah." She swallowed hard and coughed back her tremor.

_Let's try that again._

"Who are you and what do you want from me?"

The man smiled at her sudden change in voice. A regular little spitfire, she was.

"My darling girl! I bring you no harm! Quite the contrary, actually. But first, allow me to introduce myself." The man had stopped shuffling nervously and the merriment in his eyes relaxed Sarah momentarily. She inhaled sharply with his shift in movement and noticed an earthy aroma in the air. It smelled of a wood-burning fireplace and cinnamon pine cones and a musky spice she couldn't quite place. Was it from the fog in the mirror or the man himself?

"You've probably already guessed that I am indeed from the Underground. He stopped to titter quietly and leaned against the frame of her window. I am the Chief Legislator of the High Council of the Labyrinthine Isles." He cocked his head to one side and thought for a moment. "Sort of a Prime Minister, if you will. I'm not quite part of the royal family, but I'd say I do one hell of a job governing for them!" He laughed loudly at his own accolade, and in spite of herself, Sarah gave a grudging smile.

"Sir Friedrich von Rennon at your service, my dear," he smiled at her with twinkling eyes, and made a slight gesture that could be seen as a bow. You have no idea how happy I am to finally reach you. Ive been trying to contact you for months.

"Months? Well, Ive been away..." Sarah's voice drifted off as she mumbled, not really wanting to explain her absence to this stranger. For the first time in a long time, Sarah let the memories of one fantastical night as a teenager come flooding back to her. She bit the corner of her lower mouth in confusion before starting up again. "But I don't understand. You needed to contact me? There isn't anything wrong with one my friends, is there?"

Sarah felt a sudden pang of guilt creep into her stomach and nauseate her. _Its all your fault, idiot. You left your friends without even a good-bye and now somethings wrong. _Her brow furrowed and she let her frightened eyes gaze up into kind, frosty blue ones.

"Friends?" He sounded surprised and his eyes widened a little bit in devout curiosity as he cocked his head to the side and waited for Sarah to continue.

"I used to talk to a few of my friends from the Labyrinth--Hoggle, Sir Didymus, and Ludo--but I haven't been around..."

"Ah," the man interrupted and a slight smile crept onto his lips. "You outgrew your imagination." His eyes bored into her as if he understood her completely, but to Sarah, they were quite accusatory.

_Shit. There's that nauseating guilt again._

"No, Sarah. I'm not here on behalf of your friends. I suppose that's something you'll have to rectify yourself." He stopped suddenly as if he could read all the doubt of the logic of this situation clearly on her face. The man stepped forward toward the bed, tapped Sarah's arm in a rather paternal gesture and said softly in his exquisite English, "I can assure you, child, I am most definitely real. You can never grow too old to forget your voyage to our world."

Sarah looked up into his blue eyes that were satiated with such concern and was touched by his understanding. Offering him a half smile, she exhaled a long, satisfying sigh, and shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm sorry.... ir von Rennon, was it? Please continue."

He smiled with his eyes.

"You may call me 'Fritz', my lovely," he said, winking. Then, clearing his throat, he began once more, "Right, right. Oh, bloody hell. What was I saying?" He withdrew from Sarah and pacing in front of the window, he mumbled blurrily to himself while flicking carelessly at his cowlick.

"Oh yes. I'm making you a proposition." Fritz's bearing had abruptly changed and there was a low note in his tone that Sarah could recognize as the onset of a serious topic.

"I'm going to make this frank and short. There is an open position as sovereign in one of the provinces of the Labyrinth." Fritz waited for Sarah's expression to change, but when didn't open her mouth, he continued. "As victor of the maze, you are given priority over the position. I have been sent by the rest of the Council to offer this to you." Fritz stopped short to collect his breath before continuing. "Quite frankly, Sarah, you are seen as a war hero."

She shook her head in disbelief and stood up to face him. Sarah towered over Fritz by a good three inches, but something about his stature still exuded a distinct magical power that made Sarah a little apprehensive.

"A sovereign? I don't even know what that is. And more importantly," Sarah said as she took a step closer to him, gaining a bit of courage. "Why are you offering this now? Shouldnt I have received this when I won the game?"

"Ah-ah," Fritz said quietly, looking at her beneath lowered lids and very slowly, he angled a finger at Sarah, rocking it back and forth in front of her face, as if she were a very naughty child that needed to be chastised. "This is not a prize. I believe you graciously refused your spoils," he said, his voice hitting a low note that made Sarah feel like she had just been rebuked for some heinous crime.

Her spoils? Sarah cast her eyes down in embarrassment, thinking of her last moments in the castle beyond the Goblin City.

_Look, Sarah. Look at what I'm offering you--your dreams_. _Just let me rule you and you can have everything you want._

Throwing up her hands in exasperation, Sarah threw Fritz an irritated glower. "Some prize," she snorted, her voice thick with sarcasm. "Spend an eternity in the same place where I had just spent the most dangerous 13 hours of my life? With goblins? And their king? Sick."

She let her head fall into her palms, and soothed away the building tension in her forehead with her fingertips. This was just getting too weird. This isn't really happening. It's just the stress from traveling.

Fritz tightened his jaw at her last words, but did not move from his stance against the window. "We wont quibble over the wording," he said casually, arms crossed over his armor. His skin shimmered beneath the moonlight, a glossy gossamer that seemed to radiate onto his silver hair. For the first time, Sarah noticed the choppy lines of light blue that traveled up from the outer corners of his eyes and tapered into the arched crevice his triangular brows. The feature was much too familiar and Sarah shuddered at the slightest memory of seeing eyes like Fritz's once before.

"The fact of the matter is, as victor of the Labyrinth, you do have some pull in the Underground and we are offering you this position..." Fritz's voice trailed off for a moment and he tapped a finger on his chin as if lost in deep thought. "...as sort of an added bonus for a job well-done. To the victor go the spoils, you know? As I've already told you, you possess all the qualities of a war hero, just as candidates in your world are elected into office. By defeating the maze, you have proved strength and mentality, important decision-making skills, tenacity, and most important to any political leader, charm."

Sarah thought over his words and realized smugly that she did, in fact, use all of those traits during her trip through the Labyrinth. _But didn't everybody?_

And as if reading her thoughts, "You]d be surprised at home many people give up when they cant find the entrance to the maze," Fritz replied in a soft voice that dripped with some sort of emotion that Sarah could only place as pity. Y"ou will be given proper instruction from myself and other members of the Council. And as for the terminology, sovereign is just a fancy word for gate-keeper. This position is only as lord protector over one providence of the kingdom--keeping things in check. All matters are reported to His Majesty, King Jareth."

_Jareth__?_

Jareth. The name rang a tiny alarm in Sarah's mind and she instantly knew why. Another memory emerged from the cobwebs of her mind

"The King of the Goblins," she said simply, without emotion. At her voice, Fritz looked vigilantly over her face. A vague expression, unbeknownst to him, passed quickly over her face, and then was gone.

Sarah focused her attention beyond Fritz, narrowing her eyes on the soft pink curtains lining the windows. Then, turning her concentration back to the man front of her, she gave her reply to his proposal apologetically, as if knowing the answer from the beginning. "I can't go back."

"Jareth has asked for you." Fritz blurted it out hurriedly, as if rushing the fact might make her change her mind. It was a lie, but Sarah wouldn't know. In fact, Jareth had done just the opposite, bellowing never to bring that girl back to his kingdom and threatening the Council members to a lovely retirement in the Bog of Eternal Stench if they should ever defy his authority. He had acted quite childish when making his point, throwing vanishing crystals at the poor, stupid goblins that were attempting to dress a chicken in a suit of goblin armor.

Fritz knew it wasn't contempt behind Jareth's rationale. He saw something deeper when he looked into his eyes--conflicting emotions bordering upon pain and bitterness, but he also knew Jareth was too proud to ever confide in him. He was a shrewd and astonishingly clever ruler, but stubborn as a mule. It had taken an entire afternoon and well into early dusk for the Council to convince Jareth that the kingdom needed her in this dire situation. With a looming war, the members knew that Sarah was the key.

"He asked for me?" Sarah repeated and Fritz thought he saw the slightest bit of interest creep into her eyes.

"Yes. Come, come, child. Tell me your decision. I haven't all day, and there are others that the king has in line for the position," he lied again. There were no others. As the last victor of the Labyrinth, Sarah was needed to return before the kingdom fell into complete civil war.

But she didn't need to know that.

At least not yet.

"I'm not here to force you into anything. Take it or leave it."

But Sarah could not answer, so stricken was she by the idea that the Goblin King thought. Her heart sank with bitter disappointment, but then anger soon flared. Sarahs eyebrows rushed together, forming high angles over flickering green eyes. She looked like a cat in the dark. A cat ready to pounce. So he thought he could just give her job away to anyone else, did he? This was her position, hers alone, and she'd show everyone else in this God-forsaken place that she could do the job. After all, wasn't she the victor of the labyrinth?

And without thinking, she answered readily, all traces of anger and disappointment blotted out from her voice.

"I'll take it."

Oh God, what had she just done? Signed her life away? Maybe this was a huge mistake. Just take it back, Sarah. But her words would not come, and she stood there, rooted, her lips quivering, waiting for him to respond.

For a moment, the Chief Legislator looked as if he had not heard her properly, and then a slow smile spread across his gleaming face.

"Very well, I shall return within a day's hours. That will give me adequate time to prepare your arrival, get the paperwork ready, meet with the officials... you know the routine."

He walked toward the mirror hastily, and she could see his presence begin to wane. Fritz turned once more, and raising a hand in salute, he said in a thrilled voice, "Good-bye, Sarah. You will make a fine governor. I'll see you on the morrow." And then he was gone.

Swiftly, Sarah fell backwards onto the bed, and squeezing her eyes shut, she tried with all her might to block out the odd pang in her stomach. She was going. Going away from the safe haven of her house, of her life, perhaps forever. Isn't this what she thrived on, though? Travel? Adventure? Somehow Sarah knew that as worldly as she had become in the last few years, her experience would now be completely irrelevant.

With a heavy heart, Sarah sat up, and prepared to meet her family for dinner.

"I guess I'm leaving home," she said.

Author's Note: Sorry it's taking me so long to get to the first Sarah-Jareth interaction! It's coming!


	3. A New Career in a New Town

**_Disclaimer_**_: Labyrinth and all its characters are original ideas and do not belong to me. "A New Career in a New Town" is written by David Bowie and appears on Low. _

**A New Career in a New Town**_  
_

The cool evening breeze of the early autumn air felt pleasant on the hot faces of the twelve men seated round the large oaken table in the middle of the castle's dining room. As they relaxed with the much-welcomed lull in chatter, a smattering of starlight shone through the windows and lit up their stuffed faces. Some were dwarfish with wide features, one was adorned with thick crimson fur and whiskers, while others held the very refined look of Fae men--thin, elegant lips standing out against the pale richness of shimmering skin lined with thin brows and otherworldly eyes.

A lazy serenity fell upon the group while a few goblin servants idled about, clearing the food from the surrounding tables. The discussions and laughter became less vibrant, and several of the gentlemen were nodding off from overloaded stomachs. It was during this hiatus, that the assembled party seemed a placid, quiet lot.

A small red-faced man at the head of the table withdrew a stout, intricately carved pipe from the inside pocket of his jacket, and bringing it to his nose, he sniffed, testing it for usage.

"If I may say a word before we discuss politics any further," Fritz said. "I'd like to announce the upcoming arrival of our new sovereign in the Launfal Province, west of the Labyrinth."

In an instant, the serenity had fled the loafing horde, and something electric snapped through the air. The mortal woman must have accepted the offer! Murmurs and faint applause channeled through the crowd, and a tall, thin man, lounging lazily against a wall with arms crossed negligently over his chest, scanned the assembly at their rejoinder, while his mouth went up in one corner in slight gratification.

"Miss Williams will arrive the evening next and be sworn in the following morning." Fritz lit his pipe and took a puff before continuing. "I hope you all will welcome her with warm regards at the inauguration ceremony."

A great upheaval of "Here, heres" could be heard throughout the comfortable room, and above all the voices, one voice that was swelling with the slur of too much drink suddenly boomed.

"She'll get an even warmer welcome if she can settle the score with the bleedin' rebels!"

Without delay, the men sprang up from the table and goblins that were sitting in chairs across the room soon followed suit. Shouts clashed to be heard over the clanking of pint glasses that clattered together in agreement. The celebrated dignitary was soon forgotten as talk of impending war sizzled through the thick air.

"No more settlements-" "We'll teach them a lesson or two-" "They want war? We're ready-" "Rebel bastards-" "Nothing but a passel of Sudlicher rebs-"

The group continued to mill about with dirty proclamations, budding ever more excited with each passing comment, but the man leaning against the wall had not uttered a single word as the conversation grew hotter. His mouth curled down at one corner, and there was a glint of amused disdain showing in his eyes, as if he was listening to the foolish boastings of small children. He listened fixedly, twirling a crystal between the fingers of one hand with the practiced caress of a bad habit.

Finally, he spoke.

"Gentlemen," he said without moving his position or stance, "may I put a quick word in?"

*************

"Well that hadn't gone well at all," Sarah thought as she trudged up the stairs. It was an unusually warm night for late October, and the thick sweltering evening air rising throughout the house did nothing to alleviate Sarah's sour mood. "You'd think your own family would at least support your decisions!"

She was hot and tired, and her body felt leaden with fatigue. She took each stair one step at a time, lifting her heavy feet in a slow, exaggerated fashion. She stopped on the landing, her clammy palm clutching harshly to the banister, to wipe away her dark, sticky locks from the dampness on her forehead and neck.

She had expected more from them. Anything more than a stifled approval for her "winter internship." Sarah rolled her eyes at the lie. And what a lie it was! An internship at a magazine in New York City, indeed. But she couldn't very well tell them the truth, could she? "I've become the designated ruler in a completely different world, but don't worry! I'll come back to visit!"

_Wouldn't she?_

Well, it wasn't time to think about that now. Maybe some other time. There was too much on her mind to deal with tonight. The painful expressions from her family members would surely be enough to haunt her dreams. Her father could have told her to expect the worst from her brother and stepmother, but he noticed nothing. He sat solemnly, at one end of the table, suddenly an old gray man, with absent eyes fastened beyond Sarah, hardly hearing her words.

At least they would be out of the house tomorrow night when she would "depart."

Sarah finished her trek up the stairs, entered her bedroom hurriedly, and fell face-down onto the softness of her bed. Tomorrow would be one to really try her nerves. She turned drowsily onto her side, a slow slinking blackness enveloping her mind, and with a soundless breath, she fell asleep.

****************

"Let's hear from the leader of our troops, then," Fritz spoke as all eyes turned toward the addressed man. "Speak up, Jareth, you have not yet favored us with your opinion."

There was the littlest manifestation of contempt in his face as he faced the group, but somehow, his gracious charisma covered up the disdain. A tense moment of utter silence greeted him as Jareth shoved himself up from his reclining stance and the crystal that he twirled in his right hand was suddenly crushed as black leather-encased fingers collapsed against his palm in a graceful gesture.

"If we fight the Sudlicher Isle, I'll go with," he said, "but has it occurred to any of you gents that we are not prepared? Since the collapse of the Labyrinth, our supplies have gone to its renovation," he stopped and pinched his eyes shut for a moment, as if trying to block out a bad memory. Then, surveying the room, he looked into each little cross-eyed goblin face pointedly, "and a very sad military, if I say so myself."

He grinned then, bearing pointed white teeth in a feral, animal smile. Then, shoving his thumbs into the fissures of his trouser waistband, he shrugged.

"But of course, all of you have already thought of this."

With hot blood rushing to their cheeks, the men sitting about the table shifted uncomfortably in their chairs.

"Your Majesty!" one voice shouted out. "You are insulting us!"

"Not insulting, Didymus," Jareth corrected slowly, as if reprimanding a spoiled child, "just merely stating a fact. The rebels have all the essentials of which I spoke, and all we have is an overgrown hedge-growth of a maze that refuses to our pride. If we were to fight, they'd defeat us in a heartbeat."

There was a startled silence, and then Jareth walked towards the group.

"I believe, gentlemen," Jareth said in a deeply polished voice that reflected his well-bred accent, "that you were discussing the upcoming arrival of our new governor. If you'll excuse me, I have other business in which to attend."

He swung about, and with a quick nod of reverence at Fritz, he turned to the group and bowed deeply, elegantly, a bow so cordial and yet so full of impudence that every man in the room felt a slap in the face at the very gesture.

And with that, he exited the room, his flaxen head held high in the air.

"Jareth!" Fritz called after the retreating form, scurrying as fast as his short, stubby legs could carry him. "Jareth! Do slow down, lad. I'm not as able-bodied as I used to...be," he said between loud, enumerating gasps.

"What is it?" Jareth answered back without hindering his stride or giving a backwards glance.

"Oh. Dear...I must say, it must be all that brandy I drink on the quiet. I've lost most of my youthful vigor. But Jareth-"

"Yes?" he answered, finally stopping. Jareth swung about on heavy black heels that tapered up into black leather, distressed from riding. They cupped each of his calves snugly and didn't dare move with the flex of his muscles as he tapped his toe impatiently.

Face red from running, and breath coming in husky spasms, Fritz looked around, taking in the surroundings, and noticed they had entered the throne room. Raising his hand in dismissal, Jareth waved two goblin guards away to give the matter at hand a little privacy. He strode over to his throne, and sinking into the friendly suppleness, he let his head fall back over the rim, breathing a sigh of exhaustion.

"Jareth, you mustn't grow angry with them. They're just a bunch of fire-eating young chaps, and they'll do anything to protect your kingdom." Fritz's gasping had finally quieted, but he stood slouched with his hand drawn across his abdomen. "But, I say, I've never seen you in a state quite like this. What's got into you, you arrogant devil?"

"They're all fools," Jareth replied in a quiet voice, without lifting his head. "A peaceable settlement with the Sudlichers is out of the question with a stubborn brood like them." Producing a crystal, he tossed it repeatedly over his head while awaiting Fritz's response.

Fritz looked at his feet momentarily and played nervously with his hands. "The truth is, Jareth," he said softly, "there's no stopping the ensuing conflict. We can't hold back our boys and your Labyrinth isn't healing. The only thing we can do is await commencement."

Jareth caught the crystal, holding it above his head, and there was a moment of silent discomfort as he stared into it, letting Fritz's words sink into his mind. His mind was a sponge, soaked to its absolute capacity of surface tension with the gnawing onset of warfare and defeat, and he was struggling underwater to gain some sense of rationality and judgment. Jareth clenched his eyes shut for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly with his free hand. And then he resumed his tossing.

"When does the girl come?"

"The girl?"

"Yes, Fritz, the girl. Sarah."

"Oh yes, yes, Sarah. Well, my boy, she's not much of a girl any longer! Quite charming. But at any rate, I shall meet her tomorrow and bring her to the Launfal estate."

Jareth sat up suddenly and sighed, allowing the crystal to disappear with a flick of his wrist.

"I hope this isn't a mistake bringing her here. Have you mentioned to her anything about rebuilding the Labyrinth or using this dying monstrosity as our only defense in the war?"

A slight cough and a fat little boot drawing a circular pattern on the ground was Jareth's only response.

"No? Shame. Then I suppose I shall be the one to hand her a hoe and scythe and cover her lovely hands with blisters and calluses."

Fritz looked up at this and met Jareth's eyes, icy with bitter emotion.

"Your majesty, we can't lead her to believe we've blackmailed her into coming."

"That's what you're damn well doing," Jareth cut in, "isn't it, my dear friend? Giving her something in return for her slave work on the Labyrinth, hmm?" His voice was like saccharine, but his eyes still held a cold sparkle. _Like fire and ice_, Fritz thought, l_ike fire and ice_. "Let her clean up the mess that she made."

Jareth's words were snarling, dripping with the bitterness of a sore memory.

"She was a mere child," Fritz interrupted, as if seeing through Jareth's mind like crystal. "She didn't know what harm she could have been causing. And if I know you, you were probably out acting the tempting scoundrel! She must have been shaking in her boots, the poor girl, on whether she should love you or fear you!"

Jareth smiled impishly, and his eyes took on a look of momentary recollection.

"I had to distract her, didn't I?" he asked, still smiling, and then his face fell and his eyes turned remote and gray. "But that didn't seem to work," he said quietly and Fritz had to strain his ears to make out what he was saying.

Fritz smiled at the king. He wanted Jareth to be happy, the poor boy. He had always thought of Jareth as, well, as a son to him, and as if the stress of running a kingdom wasn't enough to bring the man down, the pressure of the looming war surely would.

"She will succeed, Jareth," Fritz said, his smile softening. "Well, my boy, I hate to run off, but it is growing late, and I should go home and see the missus before she thinks I'm off gallivanting around with some young sprite!" he said with a wink.

Jareth laughed openly, a loud, majestic laugh that caused him to throw back his head and left his wild mane tossing unevenly around his shoulders. "You devilish rogue. Come, I'll show you to the door. I'm on way out anyway."

"And where are you off to at this hour?" Fritz teased with pseudo curiosity.

"Ahh," Jareth remarked decisively as he tapped his finger on his lower lip, and thought with mock intensity, "I thought I could do with some company this evening."

"What's the matter, lad? I wasn't company enough for one evening?" laughed Fritz heading for the front gate.

Jareth gave a slow smile, revealing his sharp, white grin. "You're not quite the kind of company I had in mind, sir."

Fritz looked at him quickly, his eyes widened in revelation, and then he chortled shortly. "Oh Jareth!" he said, "Who's the rogue now, my boy?" And he laughed again.

***

The day passed in a blur for Sarah. She was an unthinking machine, passing the time idly, saying her goodbyes to her family, and subconsciously, her life as she knew it. Now, as she looked out the window and saw the sky turning a soft purple indicating the onset of a pleasant autumn twilight, she awaited her departure fretfully.

She looked over her belongings placed upon her bed. She had packed a small duffle bag with several of her personal items in it. Who knew what she would find in the Underground? She didn't seem to remember a Macy's the last time she was there, so it was probably highly unlikely she would be able to run out and buy a pair of underwear, should she need them. And besides, who knew if she would even return to her world? Sarah sighed at the thought, and sat hard on the bed, desperately searching her mind to think of something else-_anything else_-to block out the notion.

Her thoughts once again turned to her imminent future in the Underground. She felt a slight tingling of excitement about her new life. After all, she would be in a fairly high position. She'd probably get to see her old friends again. That would be fun.

_But what about the Goblin King?_

Sarah sucked in her lower lip between her teeth and crinkled her forehead in nervous apprehension.

It would certainly be awkward running into him again. He certainly wasn't the most pleasant character she had encountered. Shit, hadn't he tried to kill her? Well, maybe she was exaggerating. He was just playing his stupid game.

Sarah pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them securely, she rested her head in the tiny hollow they made. There was something electrifying about the prospect of meeting with the Goblin King once again, and Sarah couldn't decide if it was the idea of being face to face with a former adversary, or because of the erratic way her heart raced when he held her in his arms in the opus of a dream, so long ago.

_Probably the former_.

"Dusk is certainly a beautiful time in your world, isn't it?"

Sarah's head jerked around hastily to find Fritz, elbows perched haphazardly on the sill, staring out the open window.

"I've always thought," he continued, without drawing his eyes away from the evening scenery, "that an autumn twilight is the closest thing to true splendor. There's nothing in the universe quite like it."

Touched by his sudden reverie, Sarah joined Fritz at the windowsill, and inhaling the mild ambiance of the autumn breeze, she smiled.

"That's my thought exactly," Sarah said. "It's one of the things I'll treasure most about this world."

Fritz turned and looked at Sarah peculiarly. "Well, don't be so melancholy about it! You're certainly capable of coming back and enjoying a beautiful evening such as tonight whenever your heart desires."

_Oh thank God!_ Sarah's heart silently rejoiced.

She looked taken aback and her quizzical eyes caused Fritz to laugh with mirth.

"It's not as if you're going to be a prisoner! You are free to travel between worlds, and either I, or another escort with the proper skill, will transport you at your will."

"You don't know what a relief that is to hear that," Sarah sighed to Fritz, letting out a nervous laugh.

"With that settled, shall we be on our way?" Fritz held out his arm, awaiting Sarah's acceptance.

"Certainly."

She grabbed her bag off the bed, and within an instant of taking hold of Fritz's elbow, she found herself standing in the entryway of a cozy cottage. Still clutching Fritz's arm, her eyes widened as they took in her surroundings. They stood in front of a large set of French doors, presumably the front entrance of the house. Behind them was a wide staircase leading up to the second floor, stained in a dark wood.

"Welcome to Launfal, Sarah," Fritz said, motioning around him. "This will be your residence as sovereign of this province."

But Sarah did not hear his words, so lost in the grandeur of the front room was she. She ran through the French doors and stepped outside several paces to look over her new home. The approaching nightfall made it hard for her to see the exquisite details, but the cozy white house, with its shutter-lined dormers and flat shingled roof, reared its perfect magnificence before her.

"It's beautiful!" Sarah cried, with bubbling girlishness at the authenticity of having her first, real home after spending years traveling without a real home to call her own.

_Like a dream come true_, Sarah thought. _Well......its not really your own home_, her mind contradicted. _This isn't even your world_. 

_Shut up! _Sarah fought with herself_. Don't spoil this. It's mine for the time being. _

She turned around, and facing her yard, she found a wide brick entryway, lined on either side with looming willows. A small road ran in front of the estate where small, warmly lit cottages dotted the countryside. In the distance, she could spot the snaking curves of the dark Labyrinth, and before it, lay the proud inlet of the Goblin City. Sarah turned her head to the left and, looking down the winding road, she could see the castle beyond the Goblin City, what appeared to be less than a half-mile away. She felt an odd pang at the close proximity of the ominous citadel, but she shrugged off the feeling, and turning, she raced back inside.

"...is where you'll find the kitchens, and the dining room is just beyond them."

Had Fritz even noticed she was gone? Apparently not, if he was still presenting the first floor. Sarah smiled--widely--and felt _at home_. Her green eyes danced with a vibrant light and tiny freckles suddenly peaked across her nose as it wrinkled in her grin. "I love it, she said interrupting whatever it was Fritz was still explaining.

"I'm glad, my dear, but I'm afraid you won't have any servants for the night. Hopefully, the goblin help will arrive tomorrow for training."

Sarah shook her head in disapproval. "Oh, I don't need any servants. I've always been an independent person. I don't know if I could handle giving orders and receiving assistance with everything."

"But you shall have them, nonetheless," Fritz replied informatively. "It comes with your position, you know? Besides, the king insists."

Sarah sighed, and threw up her hands in defeat, a slight grimace appearing on her mouth. _Hmm, so the king doesn't think I can take care of myself, does he?_

"So what happens now? Sarah asked. I mean, shouldn't I be trained or something? I still don't know exactly what I'm doing here."

"Tomorrow will be the day, my dear. A very big day for you! I will arrive here on the morn and together we shall meet with the other cabinet members. Your position will be explained, you will be sworn in, and when evening falls, the festivities shall begin!"

Fritz raised his hand in an attempt to stifle a yawn, but Sarah took note and decided to wrap it up for the evening.

"Oh, she said and stretched her arms over her head as if to announce her own fatigue. Then I'm sure we can both use some rest. I think I can manage for a night." And with a genuine smile that showed her lovely white teeth and the smattering of freckles that peaked across her nose, "Thank you."

Fritz's heart melted.

"Oh, Sarah, you read my mind! Be ready bright and early tomorrow, my dear. It's going to be a big day."

He gave a short bow, and walking through the front doors, she saw him disappear into the sundown haze.

Sarah sighed and turned to explore her surroundings. She was standing in what appeared to be the dining room. Pale ivory walls with deep brown patterns etched into the corners of the walls surrounded her. She squinted to make out the art, but she couldn't identify the pattern. A heavy-looking rectangular mahogany table was in the center of the room. It wasn't large, just enough for four people, but it was beautiful to Sarah, nonetheless.

She looked to the wall opposite her and noticed a portrait of the Goblin King that hung directly above the table. His mismatched eyes bore directly into hers and he didn't have the faintest hint of a smile across his smug lips. He looked menacing, yet arrogant. _Almost exactly as he did right before he sent the cleaners after me_, Sarah thought.

He stood at the top of a hill and his Labyrinth blazed in a glorious green spiral behind him. He was dressed all in black except for a vest of silver armor that clung tightly to his chest. Sarah noted that she didnt remember ever seeing him in armor during her trip, even though she noticed he must have had a dozen costume changes.

A gust of wind seemed to be whipping his cape about him, giving his stance a glorious, powerful look. His right gloved hand lay perched upon a riding crop, and in the crook of his left arm lay a baby, tightly swaddled in a black wrapping. Sarah moved closer to the portrait to see the babes face, but noticed that no features peered out from the crop of wavy blond hair.

"Odd," she said aloud. "Why wouldn't the artist paint a face?"

Sarah moved backwards from the portrait a little, bumping into the table, but never took her eyes from the kings. "You like to watch me eat, huh?" she asked the portrait directly. "Such a creep." Sarah stuck her tongue out at the king, quickly, cocking her head to one side, then turned to walk upstairs.

"Ugh, well, at least I don't have to stay at the castle."


End file.
